Five hot new albums and what we thought of them.

Mastodon fans were getting itchy. The Georgia band put out their magnum opus, the progressive and heavy Crack the Skye — a monolith of experimental, progressive genius — in 2009. How could the band possibly follow that up? Could they do better?

The band’s newest, The Hunter, isn’t better. There are moments when it is great, moments when it is groundbreaking, but many, many moments when it feels like the band is stumbling, the weight of the last record too heavy for them to carry again.

If The Hunter proves one thing, it’s that the members of Mastodon are comfortable with their manhood. They aren’t too metal to write pop music, talk about love or construct lyrics around cheesy rhyme schemes. Songs like “Curl of the Burl” and “Blasteroid” even show the band harmonizing between the usual guitar noodlery.

But Mastodon gets judged on a harsh scale — perhaps too harsh. This is a band that has released flawless records. They’ve been called one of the greatest hard rock bands of all time for a reason. They’re visionaries who can make any song heavy, and make any heavy song emotional and beautiful. And they accomplish both of those things here. “Spectrelight” is as driving and complex as any of the band’s classics. “Creature Lives” and “The Sparrow” show the band slow and trepidacious, morose and passive.

After a few listens, you start to get the sense that The Hunter isn’t for fans or metalheads or music scholars. It’s a piece that shows the growth of a band that is much like a human — a being that is maturing, experimenting, creating and, occasionally, failing. How can you criticize that? (Leah Sottile)

Though the group’s debut release, Album, was by no means immature, Holy Ghost sees
Girls venture further into classic territory with a completely
accomplished approach. Making music that sounds immediate, but is still
rife with subtlety, is a difficult task — it’s what makes many of
classic rock’s finest artists so fantastic. Girls lead songwriter
Christopher

Owens tries to follow that path here. Holy Ghost jangles
through Girls’ signature beach pop, spins tired folk rock, crackles
with vintage fuzz and even toys with British heavy metal, but fans of
the group will not be surprised by the repertoire on display. Though he
presents relatively little that has absolutely never been brought
to the table, his material never feels uninspired or emotionally
hollow. These songs mean the world to Owens, and if you give this record
some time, they can mean the same to you. (Jordan Satterfield)

On my iPod: Celestial Lineage, Wolves in the Throne Room; Conatus, Zola Jesus; Looping State of Mind, The Field

There’s a beauty in sounding broken. And, these days, nobody can touch
St. Vincent when it comes to music that is simultaneously ethereal and
mentally wrecked. Strange Mercy finds St. Vincent’s Annie Clark more sonically twisted than ever — still searching for clarity in a mad, mad world.

Themes
of feeling unloved and neglected dominate the album. Like the lyrics on
“Cruel”: “They could take you or leave you. So they took you. Then they
left you. How could they be so casually cruel?” But that’s not to say
St. Vincent simply plays the victim. When pushed, like on “Cheerleader,”
Clark can be as vicious as she is insecure and vulnerable, declaring
“I-I-I-I-I don’t want to be your cheerleader no more.”

The music supporting Clark’s vocals on Strange Mercy is
a fullfledged wall of chaotic, electronic fuzz. Lush orchestrations
still pop up now and then, but they’re usually momentary — like on
“Cruel,” right before the song suddenly shifts into a thumping,
club-worthy dance track. While the heavy electronic reverb gives the
album a distinctive feel, there’s not much stylistic contrast between
tracks.

Perhaps Strange Mercy is
best summed up by Clark’s begging to be cut open on “Surgeon.” It may
seem like the ravings of a chemically unbalanced individual, but in
reality it’s pleading for someone to cut past her lovely exterior, open
her up, and let the real person (and her gorgeous music) pour out. (Seth Sommerfeld)

Instantly striking and aesthetically unique, 2009’s Psychic Chasms established
Neon Indian as a leader of the chillwave movement. It was partially the
pop-infused, blissed-out vibe of songs like “Terminally Chill” and
“Deadbeat Summer,” and partially the low-fi, AM-radio production values.
Chasms just didn’t sound like anything else.

On Era Extraña, the
band has foregone the murky sound quality and given us 12 polished,
squeaky clean tracks. On the good side, the sweet pop sensibilities and
swooping electronics are still here. “Polish Girl” is utterly
infectious, thanks to its charming keyboard riff and bounding beat. “Hex
Girlfriend” matches a noisy underbelly with a cascade of videogame
sounds and a sweet loping rhythm. On the bad side, the album’s back end
sputters under the weight of a few too many unexciting mid-tempo songs.
Overall, Extraña is a satisfying sophomore record that simply lacks the quirky punch of Neon Indian’s debut.(Mark White)

The guys in Thrice do things their own way. Singer Dustin Kensrue likes
to dig into scripture for his lyrical inspiration. Some of the proceeds
from the band’s albums are donated to charity.

Thrice
may be the most sincere band in rock music. But they’re also one the
most rockin’. Unlike the last album, which the band recorded in a
garage, Major/Minor, was recorded in an actual studio, and it
shows. The sound is a little more polished. Riffs are designed to evoke
emotion while not bombarding you with dissonance. The album opener,
“Yellow Belly,” is a prime example: a track full of tension, cries of “you don’t care,” a blitz of pounding guitars.

The album’s not a huge departure from the band’s last, Beggars. But this is a band that has flirted with emo, hard rock, and layered synths throughout its career. With Major/Minor, they hit their stride simply by ignoring what everyone else is doing. (Chris Stein)